Good for Them
by whatevergirl
Summary: 'Five times different persons attempted to get Valjean and Javert together, and the one time someone accidentally succeeded.' From makinghugospin meme: Round 4, Page 48


_Les Mis is not mine. I in no way make any money from writing this, but I do enjoy it. :)_

* * *

Christophe was the first who thought that the two would be well suited. He was a middle aged man with romantic tendencies and when he saw the two men interact, he knew they ought to be together. He had been a scientist, but had started out as a gardener. He enjoyed cultivating plants, coaxing them to life.

Javert was just a child of 17 years; he had shown remarkable strength of character, in Christophe's honest opinion. The bullying from the other guards had actually shocked him; he had seen them bicker with other guards, and of course he had seen how unfairly harsh they were with convicts, but to see them treat a guard in such a manner...

He was not ever physically harmed, that Christophe ever saw, but he was almost an outcast. The boy was ignored by the other guards, and if they wanted to speak to him the called him by names child as 'gypsy', 'whoreson' and various other terms. It was not so much that the words hurt, but he had to be terribly lonely being rejected by guards and prisoners alike. The occasional smile by more friendly men would not be much.

Jean Valjean was a man a fair few years older, though Christophe did not know his actual age. The man was a broad, strong person who was actually very kind underneath what Toulon had done to him. He did not speak about his family, or where he had come from but this was wise; do not give either the guards or the convicts anything to work with.

Christophe had seen his kind nature though, especially with the younger occupants. He had even seen him being kind toward Javert, which had sparked the idea. He had seen on several occasions Valjean picking Javert up from where he was on the ground; as he had said, he had never seen Javert actually harmed by people, but he was either very clumsy or someone kept knocking him over when there were very few people about.

He started suggesting it to Valjean whenever they were close enough to speak. Nothing too overt at first, comments of 'I think someone needs to keep an eye on that young guard' or 'You go and check that Javert is doing fine'. He discovered that the man did not get his hints to keep a close watch and cultivate a relationship with him.

He stepped it up, suggesting that maybe the man ought to befriend the other, that perhaps Javert would benefit have a _close_ companion. The face Valjean made when he had figured it out was most amusing; he had flushed and pulled a face as though he had swallowed something sour.

While Christophe did notice Valjean watching Javert slightly more closely, any further attempts to coax them into a relationship were rejected with claims along the lines of 'he is a guard/child/whatever else'. It was a shame, in his opinion.

* * *

It was several years later when an older man joined the guards. Pierre had been in Toulon Prison at various different times; he spent years here, years away and then returned again. He had known the young son of Madame Javert. He had watched the boy grow up until he was about eight, when Pierre had been transferred.

It had not been constant, of course. The woman had drifted in and out of Toulon, but Pierre had grown a fondness for the boy. Luc, if he remembered correctly, had always been fascinated with rules and regulations; he'd had a strong thirst to learn how things worked, or were meant to work and had developed a strong dislike for when things did not do what they were meant to.

It had been no surprise to come back and find the boy was now a guard; a handsome young man of 23. He stood tall, with what seemed like a constant frown. At first, Pierre did not know whether or not the young man had grown too serious, if he could not actually understand a joke, or if he did not like to smile.

Pierre soon realised that Javert was not well treated amongst the guards; it was as though they could not see beyond his origins. The man watched him though, observed as the dear child interacted with the convicts; these mostly treated him as scum. However, there were a few who did not. In particular, Pierre noticed that 24601 tended to help the boy – picked him up when he got knocked over, shoved others out of his way when they went to do Javert harm...

He realised the way the young man reacted to 24601 as well. He tended to give him a slightly embarrassed grin when he thought no one else could see, shuffling a little shyly.

Pierre had only been back 6 months when he decided to say something to Javert. He ought to form some kind of relationship with the convict. He knew it was not the proper thing to suggest, but he knew Javert would not take advantage of his superior position. Similarly, he was confident that 24601 would not force Javert into anything the boy did not want; he knew most convicts were not monsters, but mistake makers.

"A man your age, Luc... he has needs."

"Yes, sir."

"Physical needs, if you understand me."

"Are you complaining about how much I eat again sir? Really, I eat as much as I can."

"What? No, that's not what this is about; though you could stand to get a bit more down you."

"Then, what is it?"

"Physical needs. I know you don't have a father you can talk to, but surely there was someone. Your mother, the men at the Romani camps, anyone?"

"I get plenty of fresh air, sir. I haven't been injured recently either."

"No. That is not what I mean."

"Then, what is it?"

"Sex, Luc. Young men about your age have a certain need for sex."

"I manage just fine without it, sir."

"I do not care if you long for male or female, boy. But, here you use what is available."

"I don't understand."

"24601. You have a good relationship with him. Take him to an empty cell, have a roll about with him. It'll do you some good."

"A roll... But, I don't want to have sex with 24601."

"Just think about it."

The result of it was the boy giving Pierre a startled look whenever he saw him. He appeared to have rejected the idea, and determinedly changed the topic of conversation whenever it wandered remotely in that direction again.

* * *

Mirabella was a woman still young at heart at the age of 63. She was a happy worker in the factory of Monsieur Madeleine. The work was not difficult, even though her eyes could be better for threading the beads, and she enjoyed keeping up with the town's gossip, especially while earning money for herself and her family.

She enjoyed listening to the gossip around the mayor in particular. He was a lovely young man, with a bit of an awkward smile but a kind and tender heart. She liked to hear about how well he did in his work, how much the people loved him.

However, it did rather distress her that he had not taken a wife. She truly believed that a family completed both your heart and your soul; a man as loving as Madeleine could only benefit from this. She quickly came to the decision that it was likely the problem lay in his inability to notice people's affections.

She began observing the way he interacted with different people, watching how he conversed, watching who he spent time with. It was not long before she becomes despondent. Mayor Madeleine did not seem to spend much time with any woman. He gave money to those on the street who needed it, and smiles to those who would not accept his money.

The only person he seemed to spend time with for the purpose of talking was Inspector Javert. In fact, as she watched she began to realise how much notice Madeleine took of Javert. He spent a great deal of time watching the Inspector. They could often be seen in cafes together, enjoying a drink or a small meal. She noticed that his eyes tracked the inspector whenever he was in the same room as the mayor, as though he could not help but be fascinated by everything the other man did.

She supposed she could not blame him; though the Inspector often appeared overly tired and quite stressed, he truly was an attractive man. Mirabella decided if the mayor did not want any woman in this town, then he ought to have his Inspector Javert.

She tried dropping hints to them, though as she did not directly interact with either man, it did not work too well. She changed her plan to rumours. Perhaps if the men heard enough about various mentions of their love for each other, they would broach the topic of conversation.

She got the rumour mill working full time to churn out these ideas. She even watched as various others carefully asked the men about them. This way, she eventually had to acknowledge, did not seem to work.

The next step seemed to be to ask one of the girls to do some writing for her. She got Helena to write notes and letters from one man to the other, asking to meet and discuss a private topic. These notes seemed to get nowhere, and she asked the woman to write that the men meet up and discuss their feelings and their relationship.

It was not until a few weeks later, when she overheard the mayor discussing with Javert the harassing letters they had both been receiving, and the inspector promising to look into it that she decided enough was enough.

Getting the two men into a relationship was just too difficult. Perhaps someone else could take on this gauntlet.

* * *

Bijou was the daughter of a policeman. Her father worked hard every day, coming home exhausted and complaining about how that Inspector Javert just did not know how to relax.

She worried for her father. He was a good man, and he had a good heart in him. To hear his comments of Javert made Bijou think that maybe she should do him a favour and see if she could figure out what might relieve the stress of his life.

She spent her free time watched how Javert worked with the police. She saw the distance he kept from them and the sternness he ruled with. She watched his irritation in his men when they failed to follow correct procedure, or how he struggled with wrong doers when they begged him to understand their situation. Occasionally, he truly did appear to try and think their problems through.

She had several times followed him to a cafe, where he drank with the mayor. She listened as he asked Madeleine if he could make any sense of it. He did not seem to understand that people committed crimes for short term solutions to their problems in acts of desperation. He tended to focus on the fact that if caught, the crime would not help feed their child in the long run.

Bijou had no idea how to solve that problem for him, but she came up with a solution to his stress. Sex. It was surreptitiously accepted as the universal relief to most people. He needed a sexual partner, and it would have to be someone he trusted. She had a feeling he would not be able to take himself to a brothel and find someone there.

She quickly decided that Monsieur Madeleine would be the most appropriate choice. They seemed to spend two or three evenings a week together already and Javert was clearly able to show some vulnerability to the other, if what she had overheard was anything to go by.

It was difficult to decide what method she could use to get the man together. She had, of course, heard the rumours floating around that the men were both in love, and that Madeleine spent a great deal of his time watching Javert's... assets. If they were both so strongly interested in each then it was possible that the best way to make things come to a head was to use the age old ingredient of jealousy.

She began to approach the two men one night every week in the cafe, carefully flirting with Javert. She stroked her fingers up and down his arms, fluttering her eyes and thrusting a hip out to the side. She spent a great deal of time trying to show off her bosom.

It was highly frustrating. First of all, there were many other men who took notice of her, and the show was not for them. Secondly, Javert did not seem to understand her flirting, he merely seemed somewhat confused. Thirdly, the mayor ended up approaching her and requesting politely that she back off as she was making his friend uneasy.

Though she hoped it had made Madeleine jealous, it was very difficult to say no to the man, so she had to back down.

* * *

Cosette was a pretty young woman. Her Papa was the most wonderful man but he was lonely. It took her years to realise it but by the time she was fourteen she noticed how lonely her father was. It was just after they left the convent. Her Papa wanted her to experience the world, to see life beyond what the nuns could give her.

It was wonderful. She enjoyed walking among all the different people, seeing the faces experience so many emotions. It made her take more notice of her Papa though, and of that sad little smile he gave her when she asked if she could go speak to someone alone. She realised he was lonely.

She wondered if her Papa missed her mother. Had he been alone since she died?

When he returned from one of his walks, she asked him.

"Do you miss mother?"

"What was that, my dear?"

"Mother. You seem so lonely sometime, Papa. Do you miss her?"

"I... your mother... I adopted you, my darling girl. I am afraid I never knew your mother quite well enough to miss her." He looked awkward and embarrassed by that.

"Oh." The fact didn't shock her, as though she had already known it, though she could not recall anyone but her Papa. "Have you never had a wife then?"

"No. Why? Is something bothering you?"

"You've always been alone."

"For the most part. Why, child?"

"No one to kiss you or hold you when you were sad?"

"I have you."

"Not in that way, Papa. Have you never loved anyone with all your heart?"

"I love my God with all my heart, and you."

"You're being dense, Papa. You know what I mean."

"Yes... I think I loved someone, once. But ... he was a man, as well as a member of the police."

"So?"

"It wouldn't have worked. Besides, I moved from that town long ago."

Cosette frowned as she thought. Maybe she could suggest they move, that way her Papa could go see his man again.

"Where is he now?"

"I do not know child. Either still in Montreuil-sur-Mer, or another town. Perhaps he is here in Paris. It has been half a dozen years since I last saw him."

"What was his name?"

"Please, Cosette. Drop the subject."

Cosette did so, though it pained her. However, she figured perhaps it was a man named 'Javert'. She had heard her Papa call the name out in his sleep before.

She went to the police station and asked about Javert. She was told the Inspector was far too busy to see her at the moment, and she could speak to someone else if it was important. It only took a bit of asking around to find out that Javert was an angry man. However, he was apparently rigidly just and if she wanted to hang around and speak to him he would not be unfair to her, or shout his frustrations at her.

When she informed her Papa that Javert was in Paris, and that he ought to go see him and try having a relationship with him, her Papa actually raised his voice. He apologised most profusely afterwards, but he did not change his mind.

It was a shame. She asked about the Inspector Javert, and her Papa really came alive when he spoke about him.

* * *

It was months after the riots in Paris that Marius managed what so many other people had tried before him.

It was a combination of factors that led to Javert and Valjean finally joining together in a relationship, but it finally worked.

Marius was unaware that Inspector Javert and his love's Papa were not already in a relationship. Every time he went to visit, Javert was there. Marius assumed he must have been ill, for the man was pale, thin and miserable with Cosette's father hovering about like an overly concerned nanny.

(Valjean had pulled Javert away from the bridge, bringing him into his home and his life. Javert did not try any desperate acts to jump up and run away. He did not try and slip quietly out the door. Instead, Javert sat there like a puppet with cut strings; staring blankly at nothing, allowing himself to be moved about...Valjean felt nothing but fear at this odd, lifeless man. It was as though his spirit had taken the journey his body had been on, and submerged itself in the Seine.)

It was during one visit, when the Fauchelevent family came over to discuss wedding arrangements that the weather took a bad turn. They had, of course, brought Javert with them and the man sat like a silent bird, keeping watch over anything but not approaching anyone.

Marius was determined to keep everyone happy, determined to try and match how M. Fauchelevent lived. He served drinks to everyone himself; he kept things humble, but smiled at each of them and listened to what they had to say. Inspector Javert took just a small hot drink of tea, but he watched Marius flit about.

The discussions reached a conclusion for the evening, but when the family stood up to leave, the weather made it difficult to leave. Rained lashed down and the wind was battering the windows as lightning flashed across the sky.

"Perhaps..." he stared, "you would like to stay the night?"

They agreed and he informed his grandfather, who had retreated to the drawing room. The family were put in the same wing, and Marius acted on his belief that M. Fauchelevent and Inspector Javert were together, putting them in the same chamber.

He then went to get them all a warm drink before bed, giving one first to Cosette, then crossing the hall to the two older men. While there, he heard a cry that one of the dogs had gotten out and hurried downstairs.

It was Pip, a young pup, who had escaped the kennels. Marius squirmed, guilt flaring up. He had shut the kennels up himself earlier on in the day. He hurried to grab his coat when Javert stated he would come as well. His concern over the dog overrode the thought that a guest ought to not be hunting the grounds in the dark, in a storm to cover for his own mistake.

By the time the dog was located and giving back to the kennel boy, the two men were soaked to the bone, muddy and shivering.

"Oh, Monsieur. Would you like a bath drawn up?" He gasped, realising his mistake.

"It is fine. Send up a basin of hot water and a cloth, if you will."

"Of course! I shall." He hurried over and arranged this for the inspector, who was walking off to his room. When it was ready, Marius took it up to the room, where a worried looking Fauchelevent took it from him. He handed over the large shirt and slacks he had taken with him as well.

Once Marius had cleared away, Valjean placed the bowl down on the table and crouched next to Javert, who was shivering by the fire.

"Come, my good man. Let's get you out of this wet clothing and cleaned up."

Javert scowled, but did not object as Valjean began to strip to muddy clothing away. Once his boots were off and his top half bare, he went over to the basin and began to wash himself. Valjean stared, watching the pale skin twist as the man tried to get all the mud.

"Here." Valjean shook himself out of his stupor and spoke up. "I shall get your back."

He took the cloth and carefully glided it over the other man's skin, watching the goosebumps raise where the skin was left damp. He was beautiful.

Javert soon began to strip off what covered his lower half, but he gave Valjean a pointed look as he began to unfasten his clothing, and the older man decided to keep a close watch on the fire.

His imagination ran wild as he felt his face heat up. To see all of Javert's bare skin... to see those muscles ripple, the pale stretch of his back, leading down to see the buttocks he had often dreamed of.

A light cough caught his attention, and Javert was now dressed in simple black slacks and a white shirt. Both were far too large for him, revealing a good amount of skin.

"Apparently your daughter's love has not got an eye for measurements." Said Javert with a wry grin.

Valjean was unable to resist. As he mentally thanked Marius for the unfortunate combination of events, Jean Valjean pulled Javert into his arms and kissed him soundly. He pushed the man onto the bed they had and devoured his mouth, allowing his hands to roam over the other's skin, underneath the clothing that the hopeless boy had provided.


End file.
